Things That Make You Go Hmm
by Fellowshipper
Summary: Yet another GenX story. Proving that nothing is ever easy in the X-family, a simple trip to a store brings chaos to a couple GenXers.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Things That Make You Go Hmm

Notes: This story doesn't have anything at all to do with the song. I just thought the title fit. If it doesn't, forgive me. I'm sick and running on two and a half hours of sleep. Medication does strange things to people. 

Second Note: This story mentions one of the critters I've given to Jono in the past, namely Max the hamster. Max's first appearance is in a story that will likely never see the light of day, but I brought him out of hiding long enough to make a couple cameo appearances here.

Disclaimer: Well, Max is mine. Other than that, Marvel owns the rest. Drat. 

******

*Are you comin' or not?* 

"Si, si, hold on a minute." 

Jono huffed as best he could, leaning against the doorway impatiently as he watched his best friend struggle through a video game with Everett, who was the current (and from the looks of it, future) reigning champion. Angelo cursed sharply as Everett delivered the final blow to win the game. 

"There. Happy now?" He demanded an answer of Jono, who only shrugged and held the keys to the jeep they favored for inspection. Angelo grinned. "Aw. I get to drive?" 

*If it'll make you shut up about losin', yeah.* 

"You're all heart," Angelo blurted sarcastically, chuckling. "Well, at least you _would_ be..." 

Jono's eyes narrowed to dangerously foul-tempered slits but the Brit otherwise remained silent. Angelo slapped him on the arm in a friendly manner before squeezing around him and out the door, checking his reflection in the mirror to be certain the image inducer was still working properly. Jono came to stand behind him, looking for all the world to have just stepped from a Guitar World magazine. Angelo refused to comment as he walked into the garage. 

"So what are we goin' out for anyway?" 

*'amster food.* 

Angelo sighed quietly. "Sometimes, amigo, I think that rat of yours eats better than me." 

Jono took the defensive almost immediately. *Max is not a rat, okay? Rodent, maybe, but 'e's not a rat.* 

"Whatever," Angelo shrugged carelessly, pulling out onto the road and drumming a steady cadence against the steering wheel. "So where are we goin'? I think we should stop in Sam's." 

*Why?* 

"'Cause! You can get, like, a bag big enough to feed a whole fleet of hamsters for five bucks. It's great." 

Jono raised a skeptical eyebrow, one of the few expressions he could still manage, then went back to staring out the window. *Doesn't matter t'me. Just go somewhere.* 

Angelo nodded wordlessly, continuing the drive in silence until he wheeled into the Sam's parking lot, nearly taking out an unsuspecting granny in the process. Jono, pitched forward by the sudden movement, grabbed the dashboard and turned wild eyes to his friend. 

*Bloody 'ell, Ange! No wonder no one ever lets you drive anywhere!* 

Angelo smiled sheepishly and turned calmly into a parking space. "They're just intimidated by my awesome skills." 

Jono shook his head as he pulled himself from the jeep, long-legged strides carrying him quickly into the building, Angelo trailing along behind him. No sooner had the two entered than a woman with an overly bright smile greeted them at the door. 

"Hi! I'm Pam," she announced cheerfully, holding out the clipboard in her hand. "You boys have a card?" 

*Card?* Jono asked, eyebrows raised. Angelo hadn't said anything about a card. 

Pam nodded and held out a form for the now-confused Brit. "If you're eighteen or older, you can go ahead and sign up for a card now. And while you're at it, you can also sign up a spouse for a free complimentary membership!" 

Jono offered an uneasy grin, accepted the paper and pen held out to him, and walked several feet away from her. Angelo leaned over his shoulder to watch him as he filled out the questionnaire. 

*Wot kind o' store makes you get a membership?* 

"Fill it out, hombre." 

*Are all Americans so paranoid they make you sign in at the door?* 

"Just fill it out, Jono." 

Jono let out a stream of telepathic grumbles, quickly working on the rest of the paper and coming to the bottom, eying it suspiciously. Angelo peered over his shoulder and nudged him. 

"Go ahead." 

*An' wot?* 

"And put me down. I'll get a free card!" 

Jono's brow knitted. *I'm not about t'say yer me boyfriend. Forget it.* He looked up to see Angelo's hopeful gaze, then he felt his eyes narrow further. *No, Angelo, I won't do it!* 

Angelo considered himself lucky when Jono went ahead and checked the box at the bottom of the paper and filled in his name. The paper was delivered to the woman again, who raised curious eyebrows at the pair, then shrugged and told them to follow her to have their pictures taken. 

Twenty minutes later, after getting lost twice in the store so large it proved to be overwhelming for Jono, and after pulling Angelo forcefully from the many food displays with samples sitting around, they stood in the checkout line, looking down at the items to be purchased. A five-pound bag of hamster food and a new plastic ball for the animal to roll around the floor in was all Jono had bothered to get, while Angelo had made an honest attempt to buy out the warehouse. His arms were loaded down with useless things that would probably be forgotten about, all but the dart gun he had found in a closeout bin. 

"I'm goin' rat-hunting with this thing," he teased his friend, holding up the gun and almost dropping everything else he held. Jono's psionic voice never changed, but there was a hint of malice in it. 

*You 'urt Max an' I'll bleedin' kill you.* Angelo laughed. *I'm serious.* 

Angelo cleared his throat and turned back around to unload the various junk he carried onto the conveyer belt. The girl at the checkout counter, young with obviously dyed red hair, smiled brightly at him. "Hey." 

"Hola." Angelo flashed what he hoped would be a charming grin. Cheryl, or so her name tag declared, returned the smile. Jono rolled his eyes and put his own hamster supplies onto the belt. 

"This all together?" 

"Yeah." Angelo watched as she scanned the strangely varied group of items, ranging from dart guns to hamster food to a Chia Pet that was to be Ev's obligatory gag birthday gift. "So what's a girl like you doin' in a store like this?" 

Jono rolled his eyes and fished his newly-made card from his wallet, handing it over to the girl. She was too busy grinning dazedly at Angelo to pay a great deal of attention to it. 

When she finally looked down and saw that the two were an alleged couple, she quickly lost the smile and appeared to have just received word that the sky was indeed falling. 

"Hey, wait! That's not exactly true." Angelo, guessing what had happened, was determined not to let a potential flirting opportunity slip through his hands. After paying Cheryl and receiving his change, Jono smirked and slipped an arm through Angelo's. 

*Aw, luv, don't let yerself act like you don't love me.* 

Had he been assured of the fact that his heart was still beating, Angelo likely would have gone into a sudden, insane fit and murdered his best friend right there in the checkout lane. Finding himself too stunned to do much of anything, Jono smiled innocently at Cheryl and led Angelo from the store. 

"I canNOT believe you just did that." 

*Believe it, sunshine.* 

"That's Paige, remember? And what's she gonna think with you hitting on me and everything? And why the Hell did you do that in there?" 

Jono shrugged, taking the keys from an absentminded Angelo and tossing his bag into the back of the jeep. *Yes, I remember, probably not much, an' 'cause I felt like it.* 

"I can't believe you did it. I could've gotten a date!" 

*Skin an' all?* Jono jibed lightly, poking fun at his friend's mutation just as that friend often did with him. Angelo huffed and climbed into the passenger's seat. 

"Yeah. I don't think anyone would buy us as a couple anyway. I don't typically go for the tall, dark, and faceless kind." 

*Point.* 

"Thanks." 

Four miles down the road and Angelo was still sputtering. Jono had to repeatedly tell himself that it wouldn't be worth it to run the car off the road and plow head-on into a tree. His luck, he'd only succeed in destroying the car and being forced into taking a job to pay for it. Then he'd still have to listen to Angelo while they hitch-hiked a way home. 

"This sucks." 

*Wot's that?* 

"Deep space. What do you think I'm talkin' about?" 

Jono would have sighed. *Still mad about the gel in the store, right?* Angelo nodded, arms folded over his chest. *Look, I was just playin' around.* Angelo didn't respond. *Serves you right for tellin' me t'sign you up, anyway.* 

"You didn't have to ruin the moment for me." 

*Wot moment?* Jono was quickly growing exasperated. *There was no moment, Ange! You were just flirtin' with the counter gel, that's all. It's not like you were about t'propose or nothin'.*

Angelo turned interested eyes to his friend. "So if I had been proposing, would you have decided to try to convince her I'm gay?" 

*'Course not.* Jono feigned shock as he checked in with the school's security systems, then drove through the driveway and pulled into the garage. *I mean, she didn't know you were gay. You coulda just been bi, for all she knew.* 

Angelo's eyes narrowed as he fumbled with the door handle. "You are such a bastard, Jono, you know that?" 

Jono's eyes crinkled at the friendly insult. *Yup. Yer so cute when yer mad.* He decided that batting his eyelashes at Angelo would be the final insult. The Latino growled something under his breath, grabbed his bag, and dug through it for the dart gun. 

"That's it. The rat's goin' down." 

Previous joking forgotten, Jono dove out of the jeep and chased his friend into the building. *You touch 'im, you die!* 

Two weeks later - Jono, Angelo, and Max the Hamster were all faring relatively well. The dart gun had long since been confiscated, three hours after its purchase, even, when Banshee grew tired of hearing Jubilee complain about being shot at in the most inopportune moments. Angelo had not had any further complications in flirting, and Jono had in fact left him alone. 

All of that, except for perhaps Max's untimely demise, was about to change. 

Jubilee came wheeling into the house in loud-mouthed, brightly-colored defiance of the school's "no skating in the house" policy, one that had been enacted solely because of her tendency to do so. That didn't mean she wouldn't do it when the immediate area was bereft of all signs of authority, however, and so she was free to go flying through the front of the school on her rollerblades, throwing out the mail she had gotten from the mailbox. 

"Seventeen for Paige...Puhlease, Hayseed. How many issues can you read about make up tips and stuff?" She threw the magazine at Paige, who was lounging on the couch beside Jono. "Even though the cover says there's a quiz inside. 'How well do you know your crush?' ... Maybe you should take it." 

Paige flushed horribly, clutching the magazine to her chest. "Thanks, Jubes," she commented through clenched teeth, oblivious to Jono's smug telepathic chuckling. Though self-absorbed he may have been, he wasn't blind to Paige's advances. 

"No problem, Kentucky. What else we got here . . . Bills, bills, bills... Hate that song, by the way . . . Letter from Ev's parents, how cute. Um . . . 'nother bill . . . Victoria's Secret mag fer Frosty." 

"That's mine," Angelo protested, holding out his hand, smirking when Jubilee smacked him in the back of the head with the magazine. 

"Perv. Kay, what else? Yes! It came, it came!" She squealed, turning in mid-stride and wincing as she heard the wheels of her skates grate against the hardwood floor. "Got my official Sailor Moon merchandise catalog!" 

*Imagine our enthusiasm, Lee.* Jono paused, turning thoughtful. *'Ey, aren't those the birds in the two-inch skirts?* 

"Yeah." 

The corners of Jono's eyes lifted in his way of smiling, lifting higher when Paige whacked him on the arm with her rolled up magazine. 

"Down, boy." 

"Yeah," Angelo agreed with a nod, "'cause they're still jailbait with you and everything. Being a minor comes with its advantages." 

Jono let out the mental equivalent of a heavy sigh, falling back against the couch cushions. *There went my dreams down the drain.* 

Jubilee, wishing not to get involved in the argument, found the last letter in the pile, one from Sam's marketing department. "Hmm...Hey, Sparky? You signed up for Sam's?" 

*Yeah. Why?* 

"Cause uh...jeez. Dude, I think yer gettin' sued." 

*Great. That's wot I get fer listening t'you,* he glared at Angelo accusingly, turning around to better see Jubilee. *Wot's it say?* 

"Well, good news is, you're not getting sued." 

*That's good, yeah.* 

"Dear Mr. Starsmore, thank you for joining the Sam's family of customers, blah blah blah . . . hope you enjoy your membership . . . for questions call yada yada . . . Sincerely yours, James Beckett, Sam's Club Membership Director. Boring." She pulled out a second letter in the envelope, eyes widening. "Now this is more interesting!" 

*Wot's 'at?* 

"Dear Mr. Espinosa, thank you for joining, blah blah blah, and thank you for taking advantage of the fee-free membership when a significant other joins the Sam's family." She looked up, devilish grin on her face. "So you two are an item now, huh?" 

Angelo's cheeks turned a dull red shade beneath the light gray skin, while Jono sank further into the couch, trying to ignore Paige's heated stare. 

"Looks like you don't haveta worry about that quiz now, Hayseed! Maybe you should just give the mag to Sparky an' let 'im quiz Ange!" She cackled madly, speeding out of the room just in time for Jono's pillow to connect with the wall directly where she had been standing. 

Paige turned on the couch to get a better glimpse at her sometimes boyfriend, smiling nervously. "Um..." 

*There's a perfectly good explanation fer this,* Jono assured hurriedly, eyes wide. Paige's smile dimmed somewhat. 

"I'm sure. But ya know, I really have a few tests I should go study for. Tell me later, all right? Great. Bye!" 

She dashed off without another word, leaving the two teenage boys in the room with only a forgotten magazine and an introductory letter from Sam's. Angelo snorted. 

"See? It's the rat's fault. If you hadn't been tryin' to buy food for it, we never woulda went to Sam's, an' none of this would be happening right now." 

*An' just whose idea was it t'go there, anyway?* 

Angelo opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut when he realized he really had no rebuttal. Jono nodded grimly. 

*Yeah. 'At's wot I thought.* 


	2. Abstraction

Art was not his strong point. Musical talent had been a gift at birth, from guitars to drums to the piano lessons he had grudgingly taken as a child. Literary talent, while being in sickening amounts in his father, had not been passed to him. Poetic talents had been more or less ignored, though he could churn out a partially decent song now and then. Artistic talent had been entirely foregone in the makeup of his DNA. 

Coming to that conclusion, Jono was at a loss with what do about his painting, or lack thereof. 

Looking to his right, he saw Angelo perched on the stool beside him, a virtual masterpiece on the canvas before him. Jono's eyes narrowed as he looked at the scene Angelo had painted with the representation of a day at the park. Children played baseball in the background, a man sat on the ground with a ring of squirrels around him waiting to be fed, and a young couple walked hand in hand in the foreground. 

Jono looked back to his blank canvas and began to absently slap his paintbrush across it. 

"That's beautiful!" One of the classmates in their art class commented as she passed, patting Angelo's shoulder and leaning down to get a better look at the picture. "It's so...so lifelike!" 

"Gracias," Angelo grinned, watching her go back to her seat. 

Jono's eyes narrowed further. *You never told me you were some virtuoso.* 

"I used to watch Bob Ross when I was a kid." Angelo went back to the canvas. "Let's just add a dab here, mix in a little green, and put ourselves a happy, lonely little tree right here." 

*Yer sick.* 

Angelo grinned to himself. "I know." 

Sean, who had been walking around the room to inspect his students' work, stopped behind the two boys in the class he had known the longest. He had never known either of them to show any affection towards the other that was anything but friendly, but according to that rumor going around . . . 

Sean sighed, looking around to make sure the other students were grouped together to talk and goof off, then lowered himself onto a stool in front of the teens, hands resting on his knees. 

"Well then. I saw yuir picture, Angelo. Nice job." 

"Gracias." 

Jono gave a mental snicker. *Wot about mine, sir?* 

Sean blanched. "Um . . . Well, it needs a bit o' work. But not tae worry!" He quickly amended his words, smiling brightly. "We all have hidden artistic talent in us! Some of us just take longer in findin' it, that's all." 

"And some of us are just complete artistic failures," Angelo jibed, receiving a kick to the calf for his efforts. It went unnoticed by their teacher. 

"Just t'let ye two know, there's been a ... er... well, there's been a rumor goin' around, an' while I'm not one t'usually get involved in yuir private matters, um..." He cleared his throat, using the distraction to try to gather his thoughts. "Yuir picture's different, Jono." 

*Sir?* 

"Different. It's good t'be different, ye know. The world needs different things. Different accents, for example. Cockney, Irish, and Spanish. Lovely combination, don't ye think?" 

Jono nodded dumbly, glancing sideways at Angelo and limiting his psi-speech. *The poor bloke's lost it.* 

Angelo nodded his silent agreement. Sean, being Sean, was happily oblivious to the private conversation. 

"Differences make the world go 'round, they really do. Imagine how boring the world would be if everyone stayed the same!" 

Jono raised his eyebrows, again keeping his words limited to his friend. *I 'ad a nan once 'at was daft as a load o' bricks. She was on me mum's side, so I guess that'd explain it,* he shrugged, staring intently at his canvas with the purple streak across it. *We 'ad t'put 'er in one of the crazy 'omes, we did. Poor thing.* 

Angelo somehow managed to contain his snickering to look at Sean with a straight face. "Not to be rude, but does this story have a point somewhere that I've missed?" 

"What's that? Oh. Well," Sean sighed, realizing he couldn't dodge the subject any longer without making himself look like a bigger fool, "even though I'm personally opposed to it, I just want ye both t'know that whatever you choose to do with yuir lives is up to ye an' I'll support ye." 

*Um...Thanks?* Jono looked to Angelo for help, who only shrugged. 

"I know it's hard bein'...different, what with the world bein' the way it is an' all, but ye 'ave Miss Frost's support as well as mine." 

*Wot...Oh. Bugger me,* Jono almost let his head slam into the canvas as it finally occurred to him just what his teacher was talking about. It hadn't yet dawned on Angelo. *'E's talkin' about the bloody Sam's thing again, Ange.* 

Angelo's eyes widened. "Senor Cassidy, there's been a mistake here. See..." 

"No, no, Angelo," Sean interrupted, holding up his hand to make the teen pause. "I told ye already. There's no need t'be ashamed of it. Everyone's got their own ... own ... feelings an' all. Yuirs are a wee bit unconventional, granted, but that's okay. Differences are good!" 

Jono began slapping his paintbrush furiously against the canvas, making Angelo scoot nervously away from him. Sean's words completely began to melt together and stop being heard at all, and he eventually turned his picture around for Angelo to see. All the Latino could see was a flurry of green, purple, and red paint that had turned a rather sickly shade of brown. 

*I'm callin' it abstraction.* 

"So what I mean, lads," Sean went on, smile on his face revealing he was content with his speech, "is that ye shouldn't let the standard view o' society bring ye down. If ye two are happy together, then so be it." 

"Sir, please..." 

"That's all I had t'say." 

*Maybe there really is a God.* 

Sean paused as he stood, brow furrowed. "Ye two are bein'...ye know... safe and everything, right?" 

The paintbrush went right through the canvas that time. *Then again, I could always be wrong.* 

Angelo, by then knowing that nothing could change Sean's mind of what he thought was right, nodded wearily. "Si. Very safe." 

Sean smiled. "That's good. Always nice t'see yuir bein' responsible adults." 

*Actually, 'e's still a minor, 'least for the next few months,* Jono pointed out, jerking a thumb towards Angelo. His eyes took on a mischievous glint then. *Just outta curiosity...statutory laws apply for guys too, right?* 

Sean's smile faded considerably. "Er...Aye, I suppose they do." 

Jono shrugged, looking back to his shredded picture. *Just wonderin'.* 

Sean walked away without so much as a second thought. That scotch cabinet was sounding rather tempting at that moment. 

Staring at his picture, then at Jono's, Angelo gave a quiet sigh of defeat. "We're marked, amigo." 

*Sad, ain't it?* 

"What? That the rumor's going around or that everyone's believing it?" 

*Both.* 

"Yeah." He tossed his paintbrush into the sink several feet in front of him. "Life has a way of always kickin' us in the crotch." 


	3. Zippers and Other Problems (The End)

Around and around and around and around . . . 

Jono gave a mental sigh. Hamsters were such lucky creatures not to have to deal with human emotions and problems. Just put them in their wheel and let them spin until they grew tired, then let them fall asleep sitting atop their food bowl, and they were happy. 

He watched Max running in his wheel, making it squeak with every turn, and he decided to put an end to the little whispers that had been circulating with frightening speed. 

Of course, he had to get his jeans off first. 

He stared down morosely at the zipper, cursing himself for having kept the jeans for years, faulty zipper and all, despite how his mother had begged him to throw them away long ago. He was starting to regret never listening to her. Mothers somehow always knew when something was wrong - girl problems, school problems, jean zipper problems.

Angelo walked into the basement-turned-bedroom without so much as a knock, since he hadn't knocked on that door for several months, and stared in barely concealed amusement as Jono hopped around the room on his tip-toes, tugging at his jeans. 

"If this is some sort of weird ritual..."

Jono turned, eyes wild at having been caught at such a bad time, and then he lowered his shoulders in defeat. *Zipper's stuck.* 

"Yeah, that's what they all say." Angelo snickered and settled himself on the couch, trying in vain to hide the grin creeping across his face. "Is there any particular reason why you're trying to get 'em off right now?" 

Jono pointed to the splatters of paint across his thighs and knees. *Art class didn't go so well after Mr. Cassidy's . . . pep talk.* 

"So I see." Angelo leaned back against the wall, studying the problem presented to him. "Maybe you should cut 'em off." 

*I'm not tearin' up me jeans, Ange, forget it. This is me favorite pair.* He grunted as he failed once again at trying to get the zipper to budge. *The zipper can't stay stuck forever.* 

"I bet it can." 

Jono's eyes narrowed. *Yer not 'elpin', mate.* 

"Sorry." Somehow, the apology was less than sincere, but he rose to his feet and walked to his friend anyway. "Here, lemme help." 

*Get away from me!* Jono ordered, pushing the younger mutant away to no avail. 

"Calm down! Jeez. I was just gonna try to help." 

*Don't touch me.* 

"You're really letting that whole Sam's thing get to you, aren't you?" Angelo glanced up, dark eyes glittering impishly. "What, you afraid I'm gonna hit on you?" He fluttered his eyelashes. Jono gave another mental sigh and folded his arms stubbornly over his chest. 

*I'm not afraid o' that. You don't go fer the tall, dark, faceless type, remember?* 

Angelo didn't reply, only shrugged and knelt, eyeing the zipper with calculating eyes. Jono raised his eyebrows, finding the opportunity too tempting to resist. 

*You look like you've spent a lot o' time down there on yer knees, Ange.* 

Jono was fully expecting a witty, biting comment in return, and all he got was a look that was nothing but slack-jawed surprise. Admittedly, Jono was a bit proud of himself that he had finally managed to say something to which Angelo was unable to reply. 

Instead of answering, Angelo went back to tugging at the zipper, frowning as he realized the zipper was fighting back with a vengeance. "How the Hell you ever got this thing stuck like this, I'll never know." 

*Talent,* Jono quipped dryly, deciding to simply close his eyes and tell himself that this wasn't happening. 

He may have convinced himself of it until Paige walked into the room, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight before her. 

"Jono?" 

*This isn't...Aw, hell,* he swore, letting the back of his head fall against the wall. 

Paige clenched her hands nervously behind her back. "Ah...I just wanted to tell you guys that this rumor business was getting outta hand. I actually came down here to tell you that I didn't believe it, but . . ." She trailed off, shaking her head sadly. Angelo jumped up then, victorious look on his face. 

"I did it! It's unstuck!" 

Jono didn't say a word, only closed his eyes and tried telling himself he'd wake up from this terrible, terrible dream soon. When he did pry one eye partially open and saw Paige turn and leave without speaking again, he turned a heated stare to his friend. 

*Next time we go somewhere, remind me not t'let you give suggestions 'bout where t'go.* 

******

*I think the bleedin' queen of England thinks we're gay, Ange.* 

Two o' clock on a Saturday morning and there Jono and Angelo sat on the front steps of the school, one smoking a cigarette, the other ranting miserably about the rumor that had gone from a harmless jibe to ruthless persecution. 

Angelo nodded mutely, taking another drag of the cigarette and exhaling the smoke, watching it rise and spiral above his head. "Prob'ly." 

*All 'cause me damn 'amster was outta food.* 

"Yep." 

*Wot, you can't say any more 'n one word sentences tonight?" 

"This morning," Angelo corrected, pointing to his left wrist and the watch that was wrapped around it. "And I just don't really have that much to talk about." Another puff. "I don't know what to say about all this. I mean, Dios. All I wanted was a friggin' Sam's card. I figured if anything, some people would get a few laughs at it, an' I might get busted for bumping my age up a few months so I could even get the stupid thing. I didn't know all this would happen." 

*My life runs in circles, y'know?* 

Angelo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're not gonna start ranting like Cassidy did, are you?" 

The corners of Jono's eyes lifted slightly. *No. But I was just sayin'. This 'ole thing reminds me of one o' me best friends back home. 'Is name was Patrick. Good guy, one o' them guys who makes you sick, in a way. Band an' choir geek, always made first chair an' got the solos in 'em. Spoke fluent German...and Spanish,* Jono added as more of an afterthought, plucking at the bare threads of his jeans where they had given out around his knees. *Good lookin' bloke, or so Gayle used to tell me. Always had gels hangin' over him. Could've 'ad any gel 'e wanted, too.* 

"Lemme guess. Gay, right?" 

*Yup. Funny, 'cause 'e 'ad a girlfriend for appearance's sake, just so 'is parents wouldn't find out.* Jono shrugged, drawing his jacket tighter around him to shield himself from the early morning cold, a gesture from habit more than anything. It wasn't as if he had enough nerves to be able to accurately tell hot from cold. *'E was one o' the nicest guys I've ever met, though. Always was polite an' friendly, all that.* 

Jono let out a quiet mental sigh, a sound that Angelo was quickly growing accustomed to, no matter how odd it sounded. *Mum tried t'tell me 'e was goin' to Hell 'cause 'e was gay, but I didn't care. 'E was always good t'me an' everyone else, so it didn't really matter. Poor bloke, though,* Jono shook his head, rumpled brown hair falling into his face. *'E never said a bad word about no one, an' I still 'eard some o' the most God-awful things about 'im from some o' the kids at school. Not everyone talked about 'im, of course, but some o' the little snot-nosed bigots did.* 

"And now you're wondering how many people are going around sayin' that stuff about us, right?" 

Jono nodded silently, giving up on the strings of his jeans and looking up at Angelo. *I mean, I 'eard terrible things about 'im, but I didn't 'ear it all. I've 'eard some o' the stuff goin' around about us, an' we're not even gay. Well, we are on paper, according to Sam's. Can you imagine some o' the stuff they said about Patrick?* 

"Life sucks sometimes, amigo," were the only words of comfort Angelo could think to offer. Jono snorted, a strangled sound that was somehow odder to Angelo's mind than the sighs. 

*Life sucks all the time, but I won't go into that.* 

"Gracias," Angelo murmured, pulling a magazine out from behind his back that Jono hadn't even noticed before then. Whether it was from the darkness or just plain carelessness, he didn't know. "But life's about to suck for Jubecita the next few days, too." 

*Why's 'at?* 

Angelo turned the magazine around for Jono's inspection, mischievous grin on his face. "'Cause we're gonna plant some evidence." 

*That's wrong, Ange.* Angelo's grin widened; the corners of Jono's eyes lifted again. *Serves 'er right.*

"And so it has begun," Angelo replied in an ominous voice, stubbing out his cigarette and placing it in the ashtray sitting beside him, one that had finally been granted after constant lectures about flicking his cigarette butts into the lawn. 

*Just outta curiosity, Ange, wot's putting that in 'er room gonna do?* 

"Oh, I'm not doing that. What do you take me for, hombre? Some sort of novice?" Angelo flashed another grin, turning the first few pages of the magazine. "See, I found this place advertised in another magazine so I mailed away for the catalog. Timely arrival, I'd have to say." He paused, turning another page. The previously benevolent grin turned wicked. "And as it turns out, this place has a webpage for easy, speedy ordering." 

He laid the magazine down on the ground for Jono to see what he was looking at; the Brit's eyes widened to almost comical proportions. *Not that I really wanna know, Ange, but wot kinda magazine were you readin' that you found an ad for some kinky sex toy mag?* 

Angelo glanced up, then looked back to the catalog, folding various pages over for future reference. "One of your metal books." Jono would have blushed if he could; Angelo snickered but declined to comment, instead rising to his feet and offering a hand to help his friend up. "C'mon. Let's go make Jubilee a preferred customer." 


End file.
